We use our front bedroom for storage and there are a bunch of boxes in there that look like we haven't opened since we moved here in 2005.

Some of the boxes are Mr. Troutbend's treasures from the times he was in a hurry to clean off the top of his dresser so he put it all in a box and forgot about it. The one I was looking at the other day had his little cedar chest box with interesting coins, some cigar bands, and a dirty, limp dollar bill.

Back when we bowled in a mixed league (men and women) on Tuesday nights, Bill Lopez was one of our teammates. He's one of those people who always has something funny to say and it's a joy to hang around with him.

To make things interesting, the men on our team had side bets going on various things, so if almost everyone got a strike in a given frame, for example, the one who didn't had to give the others a dollar.

They always pretended it was painful to give up that dollar, so Lopez would make a big deal of finding the ugliest dollar he could and rubbing it on the seat of his pants to show his utter dismay at having to surrender it. Of course the recipient saved it for when he had to pay someone a dollar so it got passed around a lot, and saved for next week throughout the season.

Mr. Troutbend ended up with it, so he's saved it all these twenty years. I think he's waiting for Bill Lopez to die and he'll stick it in the coffin.